Paris's Battle
by xthinkxhappyxthoughtsx
Summary: Dedicated to aussiesportstar. She didnt like the way Paris's fight went so this is an alternative ending written just for her. AU one off of what could have happened.


An Alternative Ending to Paris's Fight  
  
(A/N This One Off is dedicated to Aussiesportstar as she didn't like the fact that Paris went crawling through the sand like a coward. This is my interpretation of how she thinks the fight should have gone. I've only actually seen the film once, so I can't remember exactly how it goes therefore I have used a lot of artistic license. Especially what Menelaus says to Helen, that part is entirely guessed so I do apologise. I also can't actually remember exactly how to spell or say King Menelaus's name, so that to is artistic license. Enjoy, reviews much appreciated.)  
  
Paris winced and resisted the urge to moan as his opponent's sword cut through his leg. He had dropped his own sword a few minutes earlier and it was too far away from him for him to be able to reach it. He was now weapon- less, and shield-less.  
  
As the king lashed out at him once more he stumbled backwards to avoid the blade. However the pressure this put on his injured leg proved to be too much and he fell over into the sand.  
  
Once down he could not seem to find the energy to get up and carry on. Laughing, Menelaus approached the fallen prince, sword lifted, ready to strike. Paris drew back, he looked around in panic for an escape, and his searching eyes found one.  
  
There, only a few metres away was his brother Hector, relief washed over him as he crawled towards his sibling. As he heard the enemy soldiers laughing though, the relief was replaced by shame and humiliation, but still Paris carried on crawling towards him.  
  
As he reached his brothers legs he could feel all eyes on him, the eyes of his brother, his father, all his people, and all of the enemy. And of course, most importantly, Helen.  
  
Even though he knew that all this people could see him, were laughing at him, his desire to live was too strong for him to face his would be murderer and he clung to the leg of his brother, willing Hector to protect him as he always had.  
  
"Come on, fight" he heard the king yell, but still he did not look up. Menelaus's laughter echoed in his ears, and his blood boiled at the man's next words.  
  
"You left me for this!" Menelaus was yelling to the onlookers, his words clearly meant for his estranged wife. "This snivelling child"  
  
Paris closed his eyes, torn in two. Helen was watching, he had promised her that he would love her, and this was how he was trying to prove his love, by lying in the sand like a dog.  
  
Determination rippled through his awareness and gripped his heart. His resolve hardened as he heard the king approach, he felt his brother stiffen, ready to defend him, but Paris decided that it was time to fight his own battles.  
  
Moving faster than he thought was possible for his injured body he grabbed Hector's own sword and stood up in one fluid motion, turning to face the king once more. He could hear the Trojans cheering as their prince stood up, and this further bolstered his resolution to fight. He could see the surprise written on Menelaus's face, the king was sure that Paris had been spent. But most importantly he could feel his lover's eyes on him, and he knew that he had to fight for her.  
  
Before Menelaus had a chance to recover from Paris's revival the young prince struck out. The king, taken by surprise, did not move fast enough and the sword grazed his side.  
  
Striking out again and again Paris drove his adversary back towards his own people. Menelaus was older and far more skilled of the pair and so once he had gotten over his initial surprise he once more fought strongly, but this time Paris's own confidence outdid the king's skill.  
  
Paris feinted to the left, causing his rival to swing his own blade the same way. It was a fatal mistake for Menelaus though. The kings left side had been left undefended and, not wasting a second, Paris dug his sword in, putting as much force behind the blow as he could.  
  
Menelaus froze, shock spreading over his face as he felt his life splitting away. Everyone was silent, both sides holding their breaths, when the king fell sideways, his body hitting the floor with a thump that echoed through the silence.  
  
Anger spread over King Agamemnon's face as he looked on the lifeless body of his brother. True, he wasn't overly fond of him, and had only used the stealing of his sister in law as an excuse to invade Troy, but he was his brother. As he continued to look at Menelaus's body his eyes settled on the still form of Paris.  
  
The youngest prince of Troy was crouching on the floor, breathing hard and as he looked at his brother's killer a red haze settled over his vision. The Greek army watched on nervously, not knowing how their liege was going to take this event.  
  
"Charge" he yelled, without thought, and his army obeyed, moving forwards as one.  
  
Paris fell to his knees, the adrenaline leaving his body as his mind registered the fact that he had won. He could feel the vibrations of the ground as the Greek army rushed towards him.  
  
"Paris! Get out of there!" his brother yelled, when the prince showed no sign off moving.  
  
As his second in command readied the young prince's horse, Hector sprinted forward to grab his brother. He sighed in relief when Paris rose, but that feeling turned to confusion when his brother started to run towards the attacking hosts.  
  
Following the direction that his brother was running in his eyes settled on the discarded weapon, the sword of Troy, lying in the middle of the two armies and he understood.  
  
Paris grabbed the sword, knowing he could not leave it behind. But as the adrenaline had left his body the pain from his injuries had returned and he fell once more. Seeing the closeness of the Spartans he stood as quickly as he could, and turned towards his city once more.  
  
His brother met him half way and grabbed his arm, half dragging him back to the safety of his own troops.  
  
"Here" Paris gasped around his pain, handing Hector his sword and re- sheathing his own.  
  
"Thank you" Hector smiled at his brother as they continued making their way back to the horses as fast as they could, Paris limping around the cut on his leg. "Well done, you've made us proud, though I must admit I was worried for a minute there"  
  
Paris nodded at his brother, concentrating only on not falling over as they reached his horse.  
  
Hector gave his brother a boost up, helping him to get back onto the animal.  
  
"Ride back to the city" he yelled to Paris "Do not stop till you get there"  
  
Paris nodded, though he knew his brother could not see him, and urged his horse on faster. He didn't want to flee, but he had done what he had set out to do, with his injuries he would only get in the way, and he knew that it was only fluke that he had survived this time.  
  
As the gates slammed shut behind him he slid off the horse, his energy spent. Looking up he smiled, there, standing in front of him, was Helen. He had fought for her and, against all odds, he had won. He hurt more than he had ever hurt before, but as she smiled down at him he didn't care, suddenly it was all worth it.  
  
The End  
  
(Et voila, there you go. I know it is utterly wrong to the film, and quite possibly to the Iliad, I imagine so but as I haven't read it before I cant really comment. However it was for my friend so you can all forgive me yes? Hope you like this different ending Aus, it took me so long to write. Review and I'll be eternally grateful, Namarie.) 


End file.
